


till it ignites our skin

by crookedspoon



Series: Tentatodd Week 2020 [2]
Category: Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Introspection, M/M, Masturbation, One-Sided Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, POV Jason Todd, Plans, Porn Watching, Sexual Fantasy, Sort Of, Sounding, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:00:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23655739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedspoon/pseuds/crookedspoon
Summary: Coming to terms with his new be-tentacled being has been a process. One not without its kinky upsides, but also not without its drawbacks.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Undisclosed
Series: Tentatodd Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1701706
Kudos: 31





	till it ignites our skin

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 2 "Technology & Toys" at tentatoddweek although the connection is tenuous at best.
> 
> With this, I actually wanted to recycle an old idea that I already wanted to write for last year's crack prompt, but lo, this ran away from me again and became a different beast entirely. At this point I'm not fighting it anymore. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> There's some mild fourth wall breaking in this and some Jason/Artemis attraction, but not enough to tag it. Otherwise nothing is really happening in this.

_Fuck yeah, take it, you slut. You like it when a thick cock is pounding you raw, don't you?_

Jason groans and his eyes roll back until there's no pretty gaping hole in his line of sight anymore. He's close. The tight clutch around his cock should be enough to get him there.

_Look at you, Nightwing. Not so high and mighty now, are you? What would Batman say if he could see you now, nothing but a cocksleeve for the Red Hood?_

Jason's hips twitch. The fucking dirty talk in these things will be the death of him. It's not always phrased in a way he can get behind, but this? He couldn't have said it better himself.

Because fuck, he wants to bend Dick over like that, head down and ass ready for the taking. Wants to stuff that pretty boy full of his cock until he can't get enough of it anymore, until he keeps begging Jason to be his only one and to never stop railing him.

Jason whiles away many a quiet moment lost in thought of such inspired scenes. And he wonders if Dick ever does the same. If he ever has these fantasies of getting fucked until he can't walk anymore. Because Jason would be the first to volunteer to give it to him. With or without the dirty talk.

For now, the only one he can give it to is himself, which is just as well. 

It has taken him quite a while to come to terms with his traumatic transformation into a tentacle monster. It's one thing to look at something like that - in movies, say - and quite another to experience it on your own skin.

He's been hiding his condition for the longest time, hoping it would just go away if only he pretended hard enough that it wasn't a thing. The downside of this approach, however, is that it takes some major concentration to pull off. And if he can't concentrate, like when he's injured for example, well, out pop the tentacles. It's never happened around any of his teammates, luckily, but Jason doesn't rely on luck. He makes his own.

So, he figured the best way to deal with his tentacle situation would be to just accept it and move on. 

And what better way to get used to it than to _make_ use of it? There's got to be a point to all those _shunga_ prints featuring be-tentacled marine life, right?

The idea came to him one night as he was merrily jacking away to yet another porn clip of a fake yet fit Red Hood actor going to town on an equally fake yet equally fit Nightwing actor. Jason would never have expected there to be so much content for the two of them out there - paired together no less. (Must be all the hands-on arguments they had that got caught on camera; antagonists do make for excellent sexual tension, after all.) But apparently they have a dedicated fanbase within the Gotham porn industry. Not that he's complaining. None of the asses he's seen squeezed into Nightwing black may have come close to the firm perfection that is Dick's ass, but they were nice to look at all the same. And very, very naked besides. Not something he'd get to see from Dick, unless he creeps on him in the shower, so Jason just makes do with what he can get his eyeballs on.

Anyway. 

As he was merrily jacking away and imagining himself and Dick in the positions presented to him on screen, it felt like he was popping several more boners. His tentacles were standing at attention. Or wiggling excitedly more like. Picture Kang and Kodos from _The Simpsons_ and you get the gist.

It was a lightbulb moment: why was Jason still using his hands to get off if he had so many extra appendages that could get the job done _for_ him?

Now, before you congratulate him on the epiphany, please be aware that it wasn't as straightforward as he initially thought. His tentacles could do some things on their own it seemed, like pluck bad guys from their escape path or carry duffel bags full of severed body parts without making him break a sweat, but getting them to curl around his junk took some special kind of concentration. Think telepathy level. With a little more practice Jason would soon be bending spoons in half using only his mind.

Although the payoff from bending spoons with his mind would be nowhere near as much as the one he got from bending his tentacles to his will.

After a while, he managed to get the tapering tips of his tentacles to nudge his nut sack or to tickle his taint. But even this much control was like building up his muscles from the ground up. His tentacles were actually getting sore. (You can laugh about that if you want. Jason won't mind.)

Through hard work and dedication, he eventually achieved enough mastery over his new limbs to get _really_ creative in the self-servicing department. Jason enjoyed being able to kick back with his hands behind his head and let his tentacles do all the work. Sure, it was still himself doing all the work, but it was infinitely more fun to tease himself that way. The tickling tips feel like fingers, the suction cups like greedy mouths, and he can easily adjust the depth of penetration until it's like he's fisting himself.

Jason has spent some quality time fondling and filling himself with his tentacles. It somehow never gets old.

One thing he has noticed about his extra appendages, however, is that they can feel a bit predatory at times. He might be out and about running errands for the team and suddenly his tentacles want to attack some hapless woman just because she's showing a little shoulder.

Case in point: it's been getting harder to control them around Artemis. (Not that Artemis is a hapless woman - God forbid she ever find out he had this thought, even if it was to reject it outright.) All his tentacles want to do is latch onto her and suck hickeys into her skin. Not that Jason can't relate to that urge, but. It's Artemis. Jason doesn't even want to _imagine_ what she'd do if he so much as brushed her arm with a tentacle by accident. Probably rip it from the root. And since those things seem to have as many nerve endings as his cock does - stroking them _does_ feel nice - Jason would rather avoid such drastic measures at all costs.

So he contends himself with picturing what it would be like to feel up Dick's ass with his tentacles. Dick, at least, would not be reacting as violently as Artemis would. He might try to shock Jason with his escrima sticks, sure, but Jason could take them away from him, or - maybe even better - let it happen. He might get off on the sensation, who knows? His tentacles already mark him a freak, so why stop there?

He's certainly been trying out everything he could think of short of adding toys to the practice. Having long, hyperflexible appendages makes you self-sufficient in ways that are unreal. One of his favorite pastimes is to lube up his tentacles and to have them stretch the opening of his urethra. That one always gives him toe-curling orgasms - especially if he twists the tip of another tentacle into a knot just beneath his prostrate. He's never felt more relaxed than he does after one of those.

It's been a journey, but these days, he's not bothered by his tentacles anymore. They're a part of him, after all. Might as well be bothered by the cells in his body.

What does get to him sometimes, though - and it might be a silly thing to think - is that he has no one to share his tentacles with. He has been experimenting so much on himself, yet he has no idea what it's like touching others with them, or have others touch them. 

Now, he's aware that it's gonna be far from a cakewalk to find someone who would be even remotely comfortable with his unusual morphology. And then to get that someone to want to be intimate with him - that would take a special kind of freak. 

So. Someone like him. Too bad he is no Superman who has all kinds of clones of himself running around that he could--

Jason freezes, suddenly hot and cold all over, as an idea comes to him.

No, he couldn't. Could he?

Jason licks his lips as he thinks it over.

Right here, under the same roof as him, he has a Superman clone living with him. An imperfect one, sure, but Bizarro's imperfection actually makes him all the more perfect for Jason's purposes. Biz is a sweet big lug who would be the last person to kinkshame Jason. He probably doesn't even know what kinks are. But he might be into letting Jason touch him with his tentacles.

Fuck, Jason is getting hot just thinking about placing his tentacles on top of Biz's thick forearms, or - if he's feeling adventurous - to map the planes of Biz's face with them. Biz would not sneer at him or call him disgusting.

The more he turns it over in this head, the more he comes to the conclusion that it's the best chance he's ever going to get. All Jason has to do is wait for Artemis to have her own errands to run so that he can have some alone time with Biz. 

The fortress might be big enough for all three of them to avoid running into each other for days on end, but Jason likes to eliminate as many variables as he can. The last things he needs is for her to barge in on them by accident. And make fun of Jason on purpose.

Geez, it's not even like he has planned anything nefarious and yet he already feels judged for it. For the simple desire of touching another person. (With an appendage that's basically like a long, writhing phallus, but he best not mention that.)

It's decided, then. Jason knows what he has to do. And that's find Artemis something to do that'll keep her busy in the outside world for a time. Or, failing that, to locate a secluded spot for himself and Biz where she's sure not to walk in on them.

Yes. He can do that, he tells himself as he wipes the sweat off his brow. Fuck, but he's already nervous and he hasn't even _done_ anything. Maybe that's why. Jason is at his best when he's actively working towards his goal, not just thinking up his plan of action.

So. He'll get right on that.

Just as soon as he gets himself off.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Infection" by Beartooth.


End file.
